


Beads of Ice in Beams of Sun

by shnuffeluv



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 30 Day OTP Challenge, As Will Tags, Baby Names, Big Hero 6 - Freeform, Boys in Skirts, Competition, Cuddling & Snuggling, Declarations Of Love, F/M, Firefly References, Flirting, Girls In Suits, Grocery Shopping, Holding Hands, How Do I Tag, Ice Cream, Jelly Beans, Kissing, Mario Kart, Military Backstory, Mollcroft, Molly is a Clever Goldfish, Movie Night, Mycroft Isn't Lonely, No Sex, Paintball, Pregnant Molly, Romance, Sensory Overload, Some Parent!lock, Some Plot, character list will grow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-27
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-23 14:28:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 10,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6119275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shnuffeluv/pseuds/shnuffeluv
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>30 Day OTP Challenge with Mollcroft, because exams happened about a month ago and I was bored. So now, posting! Un-beta'ed, many different universes, some with plot and some without. Just...enjoy the Mollcroft.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Holding Hands

It wasn’t much. Molly knew that it wasn’t, at least not by many people’s standards. Holding hands, for most people, was seen as something to do on a first date. Simple. Easy. Non-intimate. But, for her and Mycroft...well, her heart skipped the first time Mycroft took her hand in his. Mycroft wasn’t one for public intimacy, and she knew that.

She had made the most of it, squeezing his hand and smiling at him, and feeling the shape of his hand in those gloves he loved wearing in the winter months, committing them to memory. Her fingers fit into the space between his thumb and index finger near perfectly, and she felt something wrong when someone grabbed her hand and it wasn’t Mycroft.

After a while, winter ended, but Mycroft’s gloves stayed. One day, Molly got the guts to ask about it bluntly. “Why are you always wearing gloves?”

“Sensory overload,” Mycroft shrugged off. “I get too much information to process at once, and I shut down. It helps reduce the touch aspect of that. Although,” he grinned. “I do find your touch to be most enjoyable.”

Molly nodded, satisfied with his answer, if somewhat disappointed. She knew that if that were the case, it would be unlikely she’d get to hold her partner’s bare hand in public.

The next day, they were going out for coffee, and Mycroft grinned slyly, blushing a bit as he took his gloves off and took her hand in his. Molly lit up and ran her fingers over his, memorizing their touch in her brain. This was something new, and somewhat unprecedented, and very,  _ very _ intimate. She smiled brightly at him, and he returned the smile with one of his. This was something both of them could get used to.


	2. Cuddling Somewhere

Movie nights in were by far Mycroft’s favorite dates. Molly would make the popcorn, and Mycroft would choose what to put on that night, and then run it by Molly to see if she approved. Most times, she did. Children’s movies were fantastic, because it had a level or theme that adults could enjoy, while still having simple humor and generally adorable “good over evil” morals to them.

Plus, those were the movies Molly liked to cuddle to. And with Mycroft as observant as he was, he loved feeling every part of Molly against him, breathing with him, and, he knew scientifically, that their heartbeats were syncing up. It was wonderful. On one of said movie nights, Molly texted him saying that she was sick, and wouldn’t be able to show up.  _ Hope you understand, love you, Molly x _

Mycroft blinked at his phone as if it had come to life and smacked him across the face, calling him the village idiot. No movie night? But movie night was the highlight of the week for both of them! He grabbed Molly’s favorite,  _ Big Hero 6 _ , a bowl and several packets of popcorn, and went outside, hailing a taxi.

He arrived at her flat, knocking on the door 7 quick times, and she answered. “Mycroft, I said I’m sick,” she rasped when she saw him.

“You can’t come to the movie, so I’m bringing the movie to you. I don’t mind getting sick,” he shrugged.

Molly laughed at him and let him in, going to make the popcorn. Movie in the DVD player, Mycroft grabbed a blanket from Molly’s closet and draped it across the couch. When he looked up, he saw Molly smiling at him. “What?” he asked.

“You’re adorable when you get all excited about this,” Molly giggled.

Mycroft rolled his eyes and Molly came over with popcorn and tea for two. They got under the blanket and started up the movie, snuggling closer together. And Mycroft contentedly thought that  _ this _ was worth taking a few sick days for later.


	3. Gaming

“Come on, come on, come on! YES!” Molly cheered. “First place! Rainbow Road! In. Your.  _ Face!” _

Mycroft rolled his eyes and huffed. “Winning isn’t everything,” he grumbled.

“You’re right,” Molly said humbly. “It’s the  _ only  _ thing! Oh!” she yelled. “I am the best! I am the champion of all Mario Kart! Hahahahaha!”

“And how does this correlate with your getting twelfth place on Peach Beach?” Mycroft asked.

“Shut up!” Molly ordered. “That has nothing to do with this cup! It was our warm-up course anyway!”

“Why can’t we play Wii Tennis again?” Mycroft grumbled.

“Because I won the coin toss!” Molly asserted. “Unless you want to renegotiate our terms?”

“Sure,” Mycroft grinned. “But I get the blue croquet ball this time.”

Molly scoffed. “You got it last time!”

“Why are we even choosing hypothetical baby names again?” Mycroft asked.

“Because Sherlock banned us from using the Wii until we found an actual use for it.”

Mycroft mimed an ‘oh’. “And there’s no other reason?”

Molly shrugged. “Should there be?”

“Your period is late.”

“It happens sometimes.”

“2 _ weeks _ late,” Mycroft pointed out.

Molly scowled, pulling out a coin. “Heads I take the test, tails I don’t.”

Mycroft pulled out a deck of cards. “Poker. I win, you tell me the results of the test you took this morning.”

Molly sighed. “Mycroft,” she started.

Mycroft looked at her expectantly.

“We are not naming our child Evangaline!” Molly stated.

Mycroft grinned. “So we’re really having a kid?!”

“We are not letting Sherlock babysit ever,” Molly said.

“Agreed,” Mycroft nodded. “It’s a very good thing we’re married; Mummy would kill me otherwise.”

Molly laughed. Mycroft shook his head. “We’re really having a kid!” he laughed.

“Yup,” Molly grinned. “Ava for a girl.”

Mycroft got a glint in his eye. “Thumb wrestling for a boy’s name?” he proposed.

“You’re on!” Molly declared.


	4. On a Date

“Paintball,” Mycroft said blankly. “You want me, to go with you, on a date, to play paintball?”

“Well, that was the original plan,” Molly replied, sitting across from him in the back of a taxi. “But seeing as how you had that all figured out, we’re going somewhere else.”

Mycroft rolled his eyes. “Where else would we go with long, loose, dark clothing made for exercising rather than wearing in public?”

“Laser tag,” Molly whispered as they pulled up to the course.

John, Sherlock, Lestrade and Anthea were already there waiting for them. “It’s about time,” Sherlock sighed when they got out. “We’ve been waiting 15 minutes!”

Molly laughed good-naturedly. “Well, we did have to take the long way so I could fool this one,” she stuck her thumb out at Mycroft.

“He should be an easy target,” Sherlock grinned.

Mycroft smiled benignly. “Sure, Sherlock. If that makes you feel better.”

* * *

Mycroft and John were standing at the same vantage point from behind several boxes. Mycroft was getting all hits on his end, and John had a 90% kill shot rate. “You’re awfully good at shooting,” John said somewhat amazed.

Mycroft looked over. “You genuinely don’t remember, do you? You patched me up once in Afghanistan while I was on a mission. I was shot in the leg, just missed the femoral artery? You had a tough time getting me under for surgery?”

“That was you?!” John asked, shooting who he presumed was Sherlock going by the swearing. “I remember the case; one of a kind.”

Mycroft sniffed a laugh and sat back against the boxes. “I had half the recovery time estimated, thanks to you.”

John laughed. “Really? I had thought maybe he... _ you _ hadn’t pulled through, ‘cause I never heard anything from you.”

“I was back undercover; couldn’t risk it,” Mycroft said, shooting a few people who were approaching them. “This partner-vs-partner game should be over any minute, I think,” Mycroft said thoughtfully.

“Mycroft...does Molly know you were a sniper?”

“Of course,” Mycroft said, somewhat taken aback. “I wouldn’t keep that from her, and she loves me anyway. It’s in the past.”

They were interrupted by the triumphant cry of, “Hello, boys!” from Molly as she shot the both of them, getting just enough points for second place as the game ended.

Mycroft got first.


	5. Kissing

This was it. This was the perfect moment. It had started raining on their way home, and Molly had laughed, running from the umbrella’s cover to feel it on her skin, and she was practically glowing in happiness and smiling at him expectantly. With one step he had shielded her with his umbrella, and carefully ran a thumb across her cheek. Molly smiled and stood on her toes, and Mycroft bent down ever so slightly, and their lips met.

There was nothing sexual behind the kiss and it was chaste, but sparks flew. Mycroft could taste Molly’s re-applied citrus lip gloss, and he had no doubt she could taste the chocolate ice cream they had for dessert not 15 minutes earlier. Molly grabbed his lapels and pulled him down a little further, pressing a little harder. Mycroft had to remind himself to breathe.

And just as soon as the moment was there, it was gone, Molly pulling away in a smile, flushed, because someone had yelled at them on the street to get a room. Mycroft glared at the perpetrator and found Sherlock standing there, smirking. “You really should get a room in you plan to do that often, brother dear,” Sherlock pointed out.

Mycroft whacked him with the umbrella until Sherlock ran away laughing. Molly giggled, and pulled Mycroft into one last kiss before she hailed a cab and went home.

He filed away the moment in his mind palace for later review.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, this one was hard...hope you all liked it anyways.


	6. Wearing Each Other's Clothes

“Stop!” Molly ordered into the closet. “Mycroft, what are you doing?!”

Mycroft guiltily stuck his head out. “Um...gathering information on the way clothes are designed for women?”

“Why?” Molly laughed.

“For science?” Mycroft weakly tried.

Molly rolled her eyes. “You could conduct a survey or something if that were the case,” she rebutted.

“Um...okay. I really just wanted to see what a skirt felt like…” he blushed.

Molly cackled. “Oh my gosh, Mycroft...get out of my closet.”

Mycroft walked out slowly, red as a tomato. “I swear it was for science,” he muttered.

Molly looked him up and down. “Well, at least you chose the one that looked like a kilt.”

Mycroft groaned. “Look, I can just go change…”

“No. Sit on my bed.”

Mycroft frowned. “Your bed? Why?”

“Do it,” Molly ordered with a scowl.

He sat. Molly went into the bathroom and brought out her makeup case. “No, hold on, I just wanted to try on a skirt--!” he protested.

“No arguing. I think you’d make a very pretty lady.” Molly smiled at the thought. “We should put you in a blouse too.”

“Only if you agree to wear one of my suits while doing it,” Mycroft grinned. “Because I think you’d make a very pretty man.”

Molly narrowed him with a look. “Shut up.”

“Will you go get changed?” Mycroft asked.

“Going now,” Molly replied. “Don’t move.”

Mycroft changed the second she was gone and grinned at her when she came back in wearing his over sized clothes. “I was right about one thing,” he laughed. “You make a very pretty man.”

Molly whacked him. “Not fair.”

Mycroft shrugged. “We each change and agree never to speak of this again?”

“Deal,” Molly agreed.


	7. Cosplaying

Mycroft fiddled with his waistcoat and frowned. “I’m not sure this fits me.”

Molly shoved her hands in her overalls and smiled. “It’s fine, love. Trust me.”

“Much as I love to cosplay Firefly, I’m not sure this will work well,” Mycroft said.

“Why not? You certainly get flustered enough around me,” Molly teased.

“That was one time, and I was drunk!” Mycroft protested.

“You quoted Firefly by saying I was ‘pretty pretty’ and promptly showed me the entire series in one night!” Molly yelled back.

“And you loved it enough to cosplay it with me, but I’m pretty sure this waistcoat doesn’t fit, and I don’t want to cosplay something if I’m not comfortable and--” Mycroft was cut off when Molly pulled him down by his waistcoat and kissed him.

“Does that help it fit better?” Molly asked.

“Mm, I don’t know, it still feels a little tight,” Mycroft smirked.

Molly hit him. “You flirt,” she accused.

Mycroft leaned down to kiss her one more time before opening the door. “Now, then. Shall we go to my brother’s horrendous Halloween party?”

“I think we shall,” Molly mocked with a grin.

Mycroft led Molly out hand in hand, climbing into their car and making their way to Baker Street, where they would reveal themselves to Sherlock and his friends as a couple. And if they were very lucky, Sherlock’s reaction would make it all worth it.


	8. Shopping

“Milk, eggs, butter…” Molly reads through the grocery list. “Gummy bears for Halloween dissections...really, Mycroft? Jelly beans?”

Mycroft shrugs sheepishly. “They’re so good! And I hear they’re experimenting with new flavors, too!”

“Mycroft, we have 3 jars filled with jellybeans already at home.”

“And why can’t we have 4?” he whined.

“They’ll grow stale before you can eat them. Be glad we’re getting gummy bears.”

“I can eat 4 jars of jellybeans in a single day!” Mycroft asserted.

“And that’s a good thing?!” Molly asked incredulously.

“Well...maybe not,” Mycroft conceded. “But the sugar high is good news for fast and efficient work.”

“Bad news for your girlfriend,” Molly said. “The last time you were on a sugar high you got so bored you started a game of deductions with Sherlock by text.”

“And didn’t I say I wouldn’t let it happen again? I can get sugar highs without texting Sherlock.”

“You can, but you won’t,” Molly pointed out. “No more jelly beans.”

Mycroft sulked. Molly rolled her eyes and nudged him. “We still need icecream to go with the gummy bears.”

Mycroft lit up and led her to the frozen food section, trying to decide what flavor would go best with gummy bears. Eventually he pulled out a tub of cookies and cream. Molly rolled her eyes at him. “Eccentric choice, but all right.”

They went to the self-checkout and Molly started scanning items while Mycroft played Candy Crush impatiently on his phone. He took half the bags (the ones filled with things like jugs of milk), and Molly took the other half (to keep him out of the sweets) as they walked out and returned their shopping cart. “Same time next week,” Molly sighed.

“And by then we’ll almost be out of jellybeans,” Mycroft gently reminded her.

“You have a problem!” Molly laughed.


	9. Hanging Out With Friends

“So...Mycroft. What makes you think you deserve Molly?” Meena asked.

Molly blushed furiously and chided, “Meena!”

“Well, I want to know! Why does he, out of all the nice guys out there, have you, when he doesn’t deserve you?” Meena defended, glaring at Mycroft.

“I’m sorry,” Molly apologized. “This wasn’t a good idea. You were right.”

Mycroft held up a hand. “Meena is right to want to meet me, however. After all, we’ve been seeing each other for several months. It’s high time we met.”

“And I was also right in saying you don’t deserve her,” Meena said smugly. “I can tell your type a mile away. You’re a manipulator. What did you do to get Molly into you? Promise her some time with your brother? Deliver some heartwarming speech about how she’s an exception to your ‘not caring’ rule?”

“Meena!” Molly protested. “It wasn’t like that at all! He’s not half the manipulator you are, with your convincing my boyfriends to all leave me!”

“He doesn’t deserve you! None of them did!” Meena exclaimed.

“Molly, she’s right,” Mycroft said. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Love-”

“-No, Molly, I don’t.” Mycroft turned to Meena. “You’re right when you say I’m a manipulator, and under different circumstances I’d offer you a job for your observational skills. I don’t deserve Molly, which makes me all the happier that out of _all_ the men in the world, the ones with money, the ones with looks, the ones with hearts of gold that will always be able to treat her right, that _she_ chose _me_. I would have never dreamed that someone could come into my life and take it by storm, I thought that all love did was put people in compromised positions and made them make mistakes. So the idea that _anyone_ , let alone this wonderful woman could make me fall head over heels is a concept I’m still wrapping my head around. I _don’t_ deserve her. I’ve done far too many things in my life that I’m not proud of to _ever_ _hope_ to deserve someone _half_ as good as Molly. But she chose _me_ , out of all the men in the world she could have chosen. And believe me, for all that I don’t deserve her, I won’t take advantage of her ever. I know better than that.”

Molly beamed at him and wiped her eyes. Mycroft got concerned. “Wait, you’re crying?! Why are you crying, did I screw it up?”

She laughed and shook her head. “No, you were perfect.”

“Then why are you  _ crying _ ?!” Mycroft asked.

“It’s a thing women do when men declare their love, get used to it honey,” Meena sighed. “The way you act toward her and around her, you’ll be seeing that a lot. You don’t deserve her,” Meena warned. “But nobody does. You’re as close as anyone’s gonna get.”

Mycroft leaned back and crossed his arms. “I think you have too high standards,” he grumbled. “I know I don’t deserve her, but I think I know a few people who might.”

“Mm...no,” Meena said. “Be glad I’m this friendly to you.”

“Meena…” Molly sighed. “Please behave.”

“Actually, I think she behaves just fine. Someone has to look out for you when I’m this lovestruck. Someone needs to be the brain,” Mycroft pointed out.

“I’m touched, Einstein,” Meena laughed.


	10. With Animal Ears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story features Victoria, Tom, and Hamish who make appearances in another one of my Mollcroft series, The Mollcroft Files.

“Please Dad please?” Hamish begged. “It’s no fun if you’re the only one left out.”

“I won’t mind being left out on this one, Hamish,” Mycroft said, staring at the pair of cat ears Hamish was holding out for him.

“But we’re a pack of animals, you always say! And now we get to go to a costume party for Ben’s birthday, and we can’t show it if you don’t wear the ears!”

Mycroft rolled his eyes. “Molly? Your son won’t let up on me wearing a headband!”

“Your son has been looking forward to this for weeks, love, the least you can do is wear the ears!” Molly replied from the doorway. She was wearing a pair of reindeer antlers and ears. “Suck it up for 2 hours.”

Mycroft groaned and held out his hand. Hamish handed him the headband and Mycroft promptly trashed it.

“Hey!” the 8-year-old exclaimed. “Tom! Vicky! Dad won’t wear the ears!”

Deep from the bowels of the house he heard a prompt, “My name is Victoria!” and two pairs of running feet.

Molly grinned. “Oh, you’re gonna get it, probably don’t want to have this fight in our library.”

Mycroft got up and strode to Tom and Hamish’s room, where he grabbed a water pistol and proceeded to fill it in the bathroom that they shared with Victoria. Someone cleared their throat behind him. He was greeted with the site of Hamish, Victoria, and Tom all brandished plastic swords. “Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my dreams, prepare to die!” Hamish exclaimed.

With that, the three kids ambushed Mycroft with their swords, Hamish swinging wildly, Tom hitting sweet spots where nerves were exposed, and Victoria just resolutely poking him in the same spot over and over again. Mycroft squirted them all with water, deterring Tom from continuing. Hamish didn’t cover well enough to keep Mycroft in the bathroom, and he and Victoria chased him down the stairs into the living room. Mycroft hid behind the sofa, and Hamish couldn’t fit back there well enough to do any more damage, but Victoria kept poking him. It was starting to bruise nicely and Mycroft really didn’t want to be poked any longer. The next time Victoria poked him, he said, very loudly, “Ow! Okay, Uncle! Uncle!”

“What does Uncle Sherlock have to do with any of this?” Hamish asked, poking his head over the couch.

“It means he gives up, stupid,” Victoria sighed.

“So you’ll wear the ears?”

Mycroft cringed. “Yes, I’ll wear the ears.”

When they got to the party, Molly’s smile almost made it worth it. Almost.


	11. Wearing Kigurumis

“I still hate you,” Mycroft playfully grumbled.

Molly giggled as she snuggled closer to him. “I know.”

“I’m serious,” Mycroft said. “Why I ever thought it would be a good idea to allow you to get us sleepwear is beyond me.”

Molly pouted. “C’mon, love. At least I didn’t make you be a penguin in honor of your nickname!”

“Yes, because a giraffe is  _ so _ much better. I’m not even  _ that _ tall!”

Molly narrowed her eyes. “That sounded suspiciously like you calling me short, mister.”

Mycroft scoffed. “Sorry, miss lioness. I wasn’t aware you were sensitive about being vertically challenged.”

Molly hit him with a pillow. “Stop it, you!” she exclaimed with indignance.

Mycroft just laughed.

“You’re terrible,” Molly pouted.

Mycroft grinned and pulled her so they were practically joined at the hip. “But you love me anyway,” he sang.

“I do. I really need help,” Molly grumbled.

“Tomorrow, though,” Mycroft requested.

“Tomorrow. I want to finish cuddling first,” Molly agreed.

“Sounds good by me,” Mycroft grinned, kissing her forehead.

They fell asleep sprawled over each other on the couch.


	12. Making Out

“Molly, what did you do with my brother today?!” Sherlock angrily asked when he cornered Molly in the morgue.

“We went on a date. Lunch,” Molly said slowly. “Is that a crime?”

“What did you do after lunch?” he asked suspiciously.

“Came here for some private conversation. Why?” Molly asked, blushing, knowing where Sherlock was going with this.

“Because he’s sitting on your desk still, completely shell-shocked,” Sherlock growled, crossing his arms. “Now what were you really doing?”

“I...may have kissed him a bit more than I should have,” Molly admitted sheepishly. “If it’s any consolation, in the moment he was fine.”

Sherlock wrinkled his nose. “Eww.”

Molly shrugged helplessly. “Not my fault!” she weakly protested. “And he started it!”

“Molly. Stop!” Sherlock said, covering his ears.

“He’s a fantastic kisser, though,” Molly sighed.

Sherlock sprinted from the room and Molly went back to her office to check on Mycroft. She tutted. Still out of it. “Shame. I was hoping we could go out for coffee in a bit if you responded to me. Guess I’ll be going alone,” Molly sighed melodramatically.

She was halfway out the door before Mycroft pulled her back in. “I’ll take that coffee, but only if you promise to do that again sometime. It was kind of nice.”

“Only kind of?” Molly asked indignantly.

“Really nice, it was really nice,” Mycroft amended.

Molly smiled and stood on her toes to kiss him again. “Let’s go, then. We can hang out at my flat after.”


	13. Eating Ice Cream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love all the positive feedback I'm getting from you guys. It makes me want to come out of my shell more and offer more of my writing. ^.^

Mycroft stared down at his bowl of ice cream, picking at it with his spoon. “Out of all the flavors of ice cream I expected you to like my dear, Neopolitan was not one of them,” Mycroft said to Molly.

“Something wrong with it?” Molly asked, taking a bite of ice cream and flicking some of it at Mycroft’s face.

“Nothing,” Mycroft said, finally deciding to try a bite. “I just didn’t expect it to be your favorite flavor.”

“Well, what’s yours?” Molly asked innocently.

Mycroft glared at her. “I’m not saying. Sherlock already told you.”

“He said it was Rocky Road, which I didn’t believe for a second. What, is it a state secret or something?”

“Yes,” Mycroft snapped.

“No it’s not, tell me!” Molly whined.

“No, it’s stupid and doesn’t matter!” Mycroft growled.

Molly frowned, and then her face lit up. “No,” she laughed. “It can’t be!”

Mycroft hit her with a pillow. “Shut up,” he growled.

“Oh, it is! Mycroft Holmes, the most extraordinary man I know, has the most ordinary flavor of ice cream for a favorite!”

Mycroft blushed. “It’s not funny! I just like it, all right?”

Molly kissed him on the nose. “Don’t worry, love, I have some vanilla in the fridge for when Meena comes over. I can make you a bowl.”

“No,” Mycroft shook his head, “This is good. Not my favorite, but I still like it.”

“Mycroft…” Molly laughed. “It’s fine. I can eat your bowl if you don’t want it.”

Mycroft grabbed his ice cream possessively and hissed.

Molly laughed, near hysterics. “All right! All right, I’ll let it go!”

Mycroft grumbled and went back to poking at his ice cream. The vanilla part  _ had _ to be in here...


	14. Genderswapped

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I loved writing this one, I hope you guys like it too!

“Morgan! Morgaannnnnnn!”

Morgan popped his head in the room, running a hand through his short brown hair in exasperation. “Yeah, Michelle? What’s going on this time?”

Michelle rested her head against the bed board and rolled her eyes. “Where have you been? I’ve been calling for 15, no, 20 minutes!” she whined.

“I was shaving,” Morgan snipped. “I don’t grow a good beard, as you’ve so helpfully pointed out.”

“Well I’m stuck with bedrest because of  _ you _ and  _ this _ ,” Michelle gestured to her growing stomach, “And I’ve been craving vanilla ice cream with gummy bears.”

Morgan sat on the bed next to her and sighed. “I’ll get it from downstairs,” he sighed. “But first, has the little princess been kicking?”

“Not--ah!” Michelle scowled. “I swear you control her. Now I need to pee.”

Morgan laughed. “Go on, I’ll make you the ice cream, and we can marathon  _ Downton Abbey _ if you want.”

“I’ll hold you too that,” she threatened.

“I don’t doubt it,” Morgan said, helping her up.

Michelle stood, then paused. “Morgan?”

“Yeah?” Morgan sighed.

“I think my water just broke.”

Morgan looked down to a wet stain on the bed. “Yup. A whole 2 weeks early.”

Michelle started hyperventilating. “Oh gosh, oh gosh, my period cramps did  _ not _ prepare me for this!”

Morgan, ever the doctor, helped her to the car. “It’s okay. We’ll go to Bart’s, they’ll give you medicine to help, and we’ll have our little girl, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Michelle agreed. “But...what about names? We need to discuss this!”

“Simone, how about that?” Morgan asked.

“Oh, I like Simone,” Michelle said.

Morgan started the car and smiled. “Middle names?”

“Marie,” Michelle said immediately.

“Well then,” Morgan said with a grin. “Let’s go welcome Simone Marie Hooper into the world.”


	15. In a Different Clothing Style

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy the Greaser!lock!

Mycroft kicked the tire on his motorcycle in frustration. It wasn’t starting and he hadn’t the faintest idea why, meaning he’d have to go to a mechanic, and that meant he’d have to get his bike towed, but he didn’t have the change on him for a payphone. He looked around on the near deserted street, praying for a miracle. “Hey, peepers!” he called to a girl with a poodle skirt and glasses.

The girl turned to him and pointed at herself.

“Yeah, you! Got any nuggets for a payphone? I used my last quarter at the jukebox during lunch, and my bike won’t start.”

The girl walked over and rummaged through her purse. “Oh, I’ve got one left.”

Mycroft silently thanked the heavens. “Can I use it? I promise I’ll pay you back somehow.”

“Sure, Clyde. Maybe you can get me lunch sometime at school? That is if you can stand a square,” she smiled.

“We go to school together?” Mycroft asked.

“Uh, yeah. Though I guess you wouldn’t notice me, you usually smoke a cig during lunch and I’m asthmatic.”

“A cig?” Mycroft laughed. “What is this, the 1930’s?”

The girl punched him lightly. “Shut up, I grew up with parents.”

Mycroft shook his head and chuckled, putting the quarter in the nearest payphone. “I’ll buy you lunch. Unless you’d like to see a flick?”

“Oh, I haven’t been to the movies in ages,” the girl sighed.

“It’s a date then,” Mycroft said with a grin. “I’m Mycroft Holmes. What’s your name, baby?”

“Molly. Molly Hooper.”

“Well, then, Molly Hooper,” he said. “Care to share a smoke as a small token of thanks?”

“Asthmatic, remember?” Molly gently prodded.

“One won’t kill you, right?” Mycroft fumbled. “It’s just, I need a smoke, it’s been a day, and my mom will kill me if I smoke at home again.”

Molly rolled her eyes. “Sorry, Clyde.”

“Mycroft,” he snapped. “I don’t like it when people call me Clyde.”

Molly huffed. “I don’t like your attitude.”

“I don’t like yours!”

Molly growled and rummaged through her purse. “Chewing tobacco! It’s my dad’s. You want to kill yourself, fine, but don’t kill me too.”

Mycroft made an  _ oh _ noise and took a piece out of the box. “Thanks.”

Molly rolled her eyes. “You’re not the only greaser who smokes that I know. This is the best compromise I can come up with.”

“Stealing from your old man is a compromise?”

“My mom wants him to quit, so she gives the tins to me to throw away. I sell them, normally.”

“Oh...I owe you double, now, then,” Mycroft said with a small chuckle.

“Two dates will make up for it, I’m sure.”

“You drive a hard bargain, Molly,” Mycroft chuckled. “But somehow I’ll manage once I have my wheels again. Somehow.”


	16. During Their Morning Rituals

Molly was roused from sleep for reasons she couldn’t quite explain. She rolled over and looked at the clock. 6:45. She groaned and rolled over; she wasn’t due to go to work for 3 hours. While in the midst of trying to fall back asleep, she heard someone sounding suspiciously like Mycroft in the shower. “Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy? Caught in a landslide, no escape from reality?”

Laughter escaped her. She didn’t realize that Mycroft would sing in the shower. But it was probably to time himself and keep himself from using all the hot water. A wave of nausea hit her and she rolled out of bed, rushing to the nearest trashcan, which happened to be in the ensuite where Mycroft was showering. He poked his head out. “You okay, love?”

Molly waved him off. “Yeah, just my stomach bugging me is all.”

Mycroft frowned. “Why?”

Molly looked over at him with a grin. “Did you  _ really _ just ask me why I’m getting sick this particular morning? It’s probably just something I ate.”

“But you were feeling sick last night, and I made soup. That never makes you sick.”

“Mycroft, you’re over-analysing again. It doesn’t really matter, I’ll feel fine within the hour.”

He frowned but went back into the shower regardless.

“Since when do you sing Bohemian Rhapsody in the shower?” Molly asked.

“Since I’ve had a reason to sing,” he replied simply.

Molly fought off more nausea and grinned at what he was implying, then froze. “Mycroft, what day is it?”

“20th, love.”

“My period was due last week.”

The water stopped, and Mycroft stuck his head out again. “How sure are you of this, Molly Hooper-Holmes?”

“100 percent. My period hasn’t skipped since it started.”

Mycroft leaned back and considered. “Do you get the test or should I?”

*insert line*

Molly wrung her hands as she watched the timer on the phone. She couldn’t handle the tension that filled the bathroom. Her timer went off and she looked to Mycroft. “Do you want to or should I?”

Mycroft looked at the pregnancy test on the sink, and back at Molly. “What do you want the result to be?”

Molly tucked her feet under herself and shrugged. “I honestly don’t know.”

“Well, then let’s check and go from there.”

Molly nodded and flipped the stick over. Two little lines cut through the test. Molly breathed out. “Oh my gosh.”

Mycroft stood next to her, completely frozen.

“Oh my gosh. Mycroft, I’m pregnant!” Molly laughed.

Mycroft stood there, not saying anything. His face was completely impassive. Slowly, he started to laugh. “Who would have thought?” he asked, shaking his head. “I can’t believe it.”

Molly looked over to him, suddenly serious. “We need to talk.”

Mycroft nodded and made for his phone. “I’ll cancel my meetings.”


	17. Spooning

Mycroft’s chest was warm. Not uncomfortably so, but warmer than he had felt it for a long time.

Molly was asleep in his arms. After 7 hours of meetings, an hour stuck in traffic, and a dinner he really would have rather had with his girlfriend, he was home with her and she was out cold in their bed. He could acutely feel every place where they were connected, and the feeling of closeness this evoked made Mycroft overwhelmed with...this fuzzy feeling that was hard to describe.

Breathing low and deep, Molly was the picture of serenity, a far cry from the fluttery and anxious soul she was while awake. He took in the scent of her grape shampoo, and hoped that she’d warn him before she changed it, so he could persuade her to rethink her decision, because this would now and forever be  _ her _ smell. The sheets created a pocket of warmth that was cocooning them both in comfort, as opposed to the cool London air outside this fall day.

Mycroft’s eyelids slowly began to close and he smiled sleepily, all his thoughts settled in place for the night, something which he thought would never happen when he was younger. As he drifted off to sleep, only one thought rang through his head:  _ I hope we can stay like this forever _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was really short. Sorry.


	18. Doing Something Together

“C’mon, Mycroft! Help me up!”

“This is illegal, you know,” a 17-year-old Mycroft said glancing around, and then offering his hands as a platform for Molly’s foot.

“Oh, it’s not if it’s my own house. I just forgot my key, and I know for a fact my brother leaves his window unlocked,” Molly said. “I’m 14, I know what I’m doing.”

“Yes, because that is  _ so _ reassuring when I’m  _ breaking into your parent’s house _ ,” Mycroft snarked.

“Chill, Mycroft!” Molly snapped. “It’s not like my parents are up, my brother is never home, and it’s their fault for saying I couldn’t go to the concert with you tonight in the first place!”

“What?!” Mycroft hissed. “You mean to say that you snuck out late at night to go to a concert with me that I could have easily gotten tickets to for an afternoon performance?!”

“Uh...yeah. The night’s more romantic,” Molly laughed.

Mycroft ran through all the swear words he knew mentally and a few more made themselves known when Molly’s brother came to the window, her parents in tow. Molly looked down at him and paled. “Oh my gosh, put me down right now and run!”

“Where?! They know where I live!”

“Your mom can bail you out, right?!”

“For sneaking out with a girl? She’d be ecstatic and furious at the same time!” Mycroft exclaimed, putting Molly down and crossing his arms. “You’re the one who didn’t tell me you snuck out! It’s your fault!”

“ _ My _ fault?!” Molly shrieked. “You’re the one who invited me!”

“I wouldn’t have gone rabid if you said no!” Mycroft defended.

“Molly Elodie Hooper you get inside right now!” Mrs. Hooper exclaimed.

Molly looked up, and looked at Mycroft pleadingly. He rolled his eyes and lifted her once more to the windowsill, at which point she could climb inside. Mr. Hooper came to the window and scowled at Mycroft. “You and me need to have a talk, son.”

Mycroft paled. “Yes, sir,” he said quickly.

“I want you to go straight home and to bed, is that clear? Tomorrow I will be explaining to your parents what you did, and we’ll see how charitable they are to you then, since I don’t dislike you enough to wake them up.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And next time, make sure that your date doesn’t need to sneak out to do something with you, clear?”

“Crystal, sir.”

“Good. Now  _ get off my property! _ ”

Mycroft sprinted across the backyard and hopped over the fence, running the entire way home. He knew that tomorrow, he was going to get it.


	19. In Formal Wear

Molly slid the dress carefully down her hips, minding the small waist and trying her best not to get caught on anything. Today her and Mycroft were going to a ball, her first, and she was looking forward to seeing Mycroft slightly uncomfortable around everyone. She knew that Sherlock was going to be there as well, and she thought it would be fun to see his first reaction to her and his brother as a couple.

Mycroft had picked out the dress, which apparently was an inside joke between him and Sherlock. It was blue satin, with koi decals swimming up the front, practically leaping off the dress around the tail and fins. It had a skin-toned piece above the waist, that travelled up to the neck where a thin blue strap held the dress up. It was sleeveless, backless, and, Molly knew, entirely fitted to her specific measurements. Having a boyfriend in high places did sometimes come in handy.

Molly put in her mother’s old pearl earrings and her gold locket that had a picture of her father in it, and then walked out of her room to where her boyfriend was waiting. She did a little twirl, causing the bottom of the dress to billow up around her ankles. “Well? What do you think?” she asked.

When she stopped, she noticed that Mycroft was frozen in place. She waved a hand in front of his face. “Myc? Do I look okay?”

Mycroft took a deep breath as his head seemed to catch up with the rest of the world. “You look...stunning,” he said, eyes taking everything about her in.

“Stunning...good? Or stunning bad?” Molly asked nervously.

“I...there’s a bad version of stunning?” Mycroft asked.

Molly grinned. “I’m glad you think I look good. Shall we go?” she asked, grabbing Mycroft by the hand.

“Wait, wait,” Mycroft said, pulling her back. “I want a kiss first,” he said with a cocky grin.

Molly laughed and kissed him lightly on the lips, their outfits blending together until it looked like one piece of cloth covering both of them. “Come on, now, you’ve got your kiss,” Molly prodded. “I want to hear your retail voice.”

Mycroft rolled his eyes and sighed. “I regret ever telling you that,” he chuckled.

“It’s too late,” Molly laughed. “Now come  _ on _ . I didn’t get dressed up to stay here!”

“As you wish,” Mycroft said with a smile.


	20. Dancing

“...Now step with your left foot, no Molly, your other left foot,” Mycroft chuckled.

Molly looked up to him and laughed. “I told you that we should have done this when neither of us were buzzed.”

“But this is so much fun,” Mycroft hummed, resting his chin on Molly’s head. “And we’re not  _ that _ buzzed. It’s 3:30 in the afternoon.”

Molly giggled and looked down at their feet moving together. “I think I finally got this down,” she said.

“Good,” Mycroft grinned. “Then you’re ready for the dip!”

Molly shrieked as Mycroft dipped her to the ground before pulling her back up again. “You’re evil!” she exclaimed.

“I try, love. I try for you,” Mycroft chuckled.

Molly moved her hands from Mycroft’s waist to his cheeks, pulling him in for a lazy afternoon kiss. “I love you,” she said quietly.

“I love you more,” Mycroft said with confidence.

“I love you most,” Molly declared.

“Fair enough,” Mycroft conceeded, continuing to dance with her to the music from the 30’s floating from his phone. “But I still love you a lot.”

“I gathered that when you proposed,” Molly hummed.

Mycroft chuckled and said, “Well, I’m glad. I was worried that I might have accidentally said I hated your guts with that.”

Molly cackled. “Oh you are  _ drunk _ !” she laughed. “ _ So _ drunk!”

“Am not!” Mycroft defended.

“Are too!”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

“Kiss me and tell me if there’s alchohol on my breath, then,” Mycroft challenged.

Molly rolled her eyes and kissed him. “You are so drunk,” she decided.

Mycroft gave up with a sigh and a laugh. “Whatever you say,” he murmured.

“So drunk,” Molly repeated. “And so ‘m I,” she laughed.

“Want to cuddle awhile and watch  _ The X-Files _ ?” Mycroft offered.

“Please,” Molly hummed.


	21. Cooking/Baking

“And you’re sure this will be edible?” Molly asked with no shortage of trepidation in her voice.

“I’m positive this will work, love,” Mycroft said, squinting at the recipie. “Provided we follow the instructions and remember to add water this time, we’ll be able to cook a dinner for my parents tonight. It’s rice, how much could we possibly screw it up?”

“It’s rice  _ with stuff _ . Considerably harder, I’ve tried.”

“In Uni, when you were sleep-deprived and studying for a test. I believe in you!” Mycroft insisted. “And we have to try! We can’t just order pizza or something for my parents!”

Molly rubbed her temples and took a deep breath. “Okay, you crazy genius. Let’s go through this one step at a time, then. How do we steam vegetables, and how do we cook rice?”

Mycroft pulled out his phone and pulled up Google. “I can find out,” he assured.

“So we’re trying something  _ for your parents  _ that you’ve  _ never done before _ ?! Great, just great!” Molly exclaimed.

“Hush, will you? Steaming vegetables is easy! And you just put rice in boiling water for 10 minutes and you’re done! This’ll be easy!”

Molly groaned and pulled out a knife. “I’ll cut the vegetables.”

*insert line*

“That went...surprisingly okay,” Molly said, fluffing up the rice a little with a fork.

Mycroft was beaming. “You see? I told you we wouldn’t screw it up! Now we just set the plates before my parents get here which should be-” his phone rang. “-Right about now. I’ll set it up.”

Molly smoothed out her hair and went to answer the door once Mycroft’s parents cleared security. She put on her best polite smile and tried not to feel nervous. She opened the door right as the Holmes parents were about to knock. “Hi, come in, come in! We just finished making dinner!” Molly chirped.

“Oh, dear, you didn’t have to!” Mrs. Holmes exclaimed.

“Yeah, well, it was mostly Mycroft’s doing, I just cut up the vegetables, really,” Molly laughed. “But we had a lot of fun doing it, and I think we might just do it more often because of this.”

Mycroft came out to greet his parents from the dining room. “Let’s eat,” was all he said once the obligatory hugs had been given out.

“Let’s eat!” Molly agreed.


	22. In Battle, Side-By-Side

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here be TAB spoilers. You have been warned.

“How could you be so  _ stupid _ ?!” Molly shouted at Sherlock. “An overdose?! Again?! You promised that no matter what happened you’d never go back! And now in the span of what, 2 months?! You’ve used  _ twice _ , both times nearly killing yourself! How?! How could you just throw everything away like that?!”

Sherlock stood in front of Molly, wincing every time she rose her voice. He was still coming down from his high on the plane, and Mycroft had seen it fit to take him to his house to detox. Where a furious Molly had been waiting. “Mycroft?” he nearly begged, turning to his brother.

“You and I both know she is completely valid in her anger, Sherlock,” Mycroft said evenly. “Had you not nearly killed yourself again I would be much in the same state, but as it is I’m more relieved you are still alive to listen to Molly.”

Sherlock scoffed and made to leave the house, but Mycroft blocked the way. “Molly isn’t done with you, and neither am I,” he said. “Doctor Watson will be here within the hour, to assist with your...addiction, but for now you’re stuck with the both of us instead,” he chuckled at the last part.

Molly grabbed Sherlock by the shirt and dragged him to the couch in the living room, making sure all the fading light from outside was coming in, to make Sherlock as uncomfortable as she could manage at this point. “You are staying here until you’re clean, and after that Mycroft and I will talk and see if you’re responsible enough to go back to Baker Street on your own.”

Sherlock laughed. “Make me.”

Molly glowered at him and stalked to the couch he was sitting on, clearly holding herself back from throttling him right there. “I know how to make a murder look accidental, or like a suicide, or even like natural causes, Sherlock. More importantly, I can fake medical records and I have the stomach to commit said murder. I doubt Mycroft would even try very hard to stop me. Don’t. Push. Your. Luck.” She smiled sweetly and declared, “I’m making you ginger tea. Stay put.”

Sherlock turned to Mycroft pleadingly, but Mycroft just gave him an apathetic look in return. He couldn’t show what he was thinking, not to Sherlock, not now. “She’s right, you know,” Mycroft said softly. “I’d find it hard to stop her. You’re so bent on destroying yourself, and at least she could make it painless.”

Sherlock blinked. “Is this some form of sentiment? Caring is not an advantage, Mycroft.”

Mycroft stood up and walked out of the room, but not before saying, “It’s not voluntary, either.”

Sherlock sat there, completely stunned into submission. He had no response to either of them that could possibly measure up to what Molly and Mycroft had informed him of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is up so late, I went to Refeneration Who 2 in Baltimore today! I got to meet Peter Davidson! And talk to Rob Shearman! He actually wanted to talk to me more than we did, so I'm probably gonna lowkey find out his e-mail or mailing address and write him. It was fun, I'm wiped, and I'm probably going to pass out for 12 hours. Peace.


	23. Arguing

Molly watched Mycroft stumble through the doorway looking like a zombie, expecting some acknowledgement that she was there, and getting none. “Hey, love,” she said.

Mycroft cringed at the sound of her voice and focused on her with obvious irritation. He grunted a reply as he took off his jacket.

“Do we have any plans for dinner? Or are we ordering in?” she asked.

Mycroft shrugged. “What do you want tonight?”

“A little attention and focus would be nice,” Molly snipped.

Mycroft walked into the room and scrutinized her. “I’m missing something?”

“A little, yeah,” Molly bit sarcastically.

Mycroft looked her over. “I have no clue. Look, could you just make this easier and-”

“-Our anniversary, Mycroft Holmes!” Molly yelled. “Did you seriously forget our anniversary?!”

“Apparently,” Mycroft said. “And yelling at me isn’t going to change that.”

“Don’t use your retail voice on me, mister!” Molly snapped. “You promised me I’d have you all to myself tonight, and now you’re not even all here, and you expect me to just let that slide?”

“I understand you’re upset, Molly, but--”

“No. Every other guy I’ve  _ ever _ dated has remembered our anniversaries. Even Jim wouldn’t do this!”

The room froze and the temperature dropped a couple degrees. Mycroft stood there in shock and anger, and Molly was seething fury. “Well, if anyone else could be your husband better, why don’t you go back to them? I know that Jim would gladly take you,” he spat, walking out of the house, not even bothering to grab his coat.

Molly watched him go, not even trying to go after him. If he died of hypothermia, so be it.


	24. Making Up Afterwards

The phone rang at 10 past midnight, and Molly scowled at it. She never enjoyed a phone conversation that occurred past midnight. Still, she picked it up and huffed, “Hello?”

“Molly? It’s John. Listen, I’m at Baker Street, and you need to come pick up your husband.”

Molly growled. “What’s the idiot done now?”

There was a pregnant pause on the other end of the line, and Molly could hear John say, “What did you do this time?” to someone in the room. “He’s drunk, like, really drunk. Him and Sherlock. I don’t know what he did, but so far he’s mostly brooding and occasionally swearing at himself. He’s...he needs someone here with him who can give him their full attention. I’ll be busy with Sherlock. Come over?”

Molly sighed and felt the tiniest twinge of guilt. “Fine. But if the idiot says one word out of line, I’m gone.”

“All right, just get over here,” John pleaded.

“On my way.”

* * *

Molly was still in a foul mood when she got to Baker Street, so much so that she didn’t bother saying hi to Mrs. Hudson before storming up the stairs. What she saw made her freeze in her tracks.

There was a 6-pack of some kind of beer on the table, all the bottles empty. Sherlock was sitting up against his armchair with a trashcan next to him, shuddering and muttering something about her, probably unkind if his expression was anything to go by. John stood over him, agreeing with him to keep him quiet, and trying to get him to drink some water. “Mycroft’s in the bathroom,” John said quietly.

Molly nodded and wandered that way, to find Mycroft slumped against the bathroom wall, banging his head against it incessantly. Guilt gnawed at her relentlessly. She walked up to him slowly, and when she was close enough, blocked the wall with her hand. “No,” was all she said to him.

He looked up at her and frowned. “To what?”

“To going back to Jim, to you bashing your brains out, to drinking to solve your problems, just to name a few.”

“You’re full of negativity, you know,” he chuckles humorlessly.

“Shut up you idiot,” Molly sighed, kissing him lightly. “Come home?”

He reluctantly nodded and swayed to his feet. “I had a long day. Sorry.”

“Shut up, I shouldn’t have snapped at you the way I did,” Molly chided. “You were fine. Who cares about a stupid anniversary, anyway?”

“You do,” he said, nearly tripping when he went to take a step. “I should have remembered. I think I’m pretty drunk.”

“Yeah,” Molly laughed. “Let’s get you home so you can rest before the hangover, okay?”

“M’kay,” he mumbled.

Molly patted him on the shoulder and he nearly fell over. She snickered. “C’mon, let’s get you home before you keel over.”


	25. Gazing Into Each Other's Eyes

Mycroft had a very small list of things that he wished would never stop: the Earth’s movements around the sun, the interesting parts of his job, and his brother’s tenuous line of communication with him. In this moment, he couldn’t care less what everyone else would or wouldn’t do; he was far too busy being with Molly. They were both laughing at some cheesy romantic comedy from the US in the 80s and Mycroft thought Molly had never looked happier. She looked over at him and gave him the biggest grin she was capable of, and he smiled back.

Molly couldn’t believe how lucky she was to have someone to watch movies with, let alone have a steady boyfriend to watch  _ terrible _ movies with. She loved watching him make his deductions that were actually more accurate than Sherlock’s, and laughing with him when he pointed out plot holes was the most fun either of them had experienced in a while. She glanced over at him during a particularly cheesy moment, to see him looking at her. She slowly moved in the give him a kiss, and before she could pull away, Mycroft grabbed her by the shoulder. “I think...I’d like to marry you,” he murmured.

“I think I reciprocate,” Molly replied with a smile.

“Then let’s get married,” Mycroft decided.

“Just like that?” Molly laughed.

“Well, I’ll admit it’s not the most romantic proposal, but all the same…” Mycroft trailed off.

Molly kissed him. “Yes, I’ll marry you, you idiot,” she laughed.

The movie forgotten, Mycroft and Molly proceeded to enjoy each other’s company as if nothing had happened.


	26. Getting Married

Molly felt like she was going to be sick. She knew that it was normal to get wedding jitters, but she felt like she was going to throw up right then and there. Meena was flying around her, helping her with her dress and her hair. Her mother was standing in the corner, beaming at her. “Meena, I think I’m gonna be sick,” she muttered.

“No, save that for after you’ve had a few drinks! You’ll be fine, you just have to repeat what the preacher tells you!”

Molly groaned. “It’s not that easy, Meena. I--” Molly rushed to the bathroom as she was about to dry heave.

Meena gasped and rushed over to her. “Why didn’t you tell me this was a shotgun wedding!” she hissed.

“It’s not,” Molly gasped. “I just happen to get my period tomorrow, thank you very much, and I sometimes get sick during PMS. You know that.”

Meena pouted. “Yeah, but I was hoping for a scandal,” she teased.

“Meena…” Molly laughed.

Outside, there was a knock at the door. Molly’s mother was yelling at someone about bad luck. Molly lit up. “Mom, let Mycroft in!” she exclaimed.

Mycroft approached the bathroom door with his eyes covered and a grin. “Is it safe to look or are we doomed for a divorce?”

Molly took Mycroft’s hand away from his eyes and grinned. “Hello,” she said.

“Hello,” he responded. “Ready to walk down the aisle?”

“Uh-huh,” Molly nodded. “Ready to be stuck with me the rest of our lives, you loser?”

“Always,” Mycroft said, smiling. “I have to go. I’ll see you in 15.”

“See you,” Molly promised. “Don’t die!” she exclaimed.

Mycroft chuckled and crossed his heart. “Promise. The assassins agreed to wait until after I got my first dance with you.”

Molly laughed. “I love you.”

“I love you more,” Mycroft assured.

“I love you most,” Molly grinned. “Now go on out there and get married so we can go home and celebrate.”

"As you wish," Mycroft chuckled.


	27. Chapter 27

Molly was spinning in a circle in her office chair, singing happy birthday to herself. She was bored, and tired, and still had to stay at work for at least an hour. The door to her office opened and Mycroft poked his head in and held out a bouquet of flowers. “Is this a bad time?”

“It’s never a bad time when you bring flowers,” Molly smiled. “I’ll fill a vase with water.”

Molly took the flowers and found a vase just the right size for them in the form of a beaker. “They’re beautiful.” She breathed in the heady scent of pollen.

“I’m glad you liked them,” he said.

“It was really sweet of you,” she declared.

“How much longer do you have to stay at the office?” Mycroft asked. “Just out of curiosity.”

“Oh, not long,” Molly assured. “Just an hour or so, and I don’t even have any bodies to dissect, so I can just play games on my computer for a while.”

“Or you could play hookey,” Mycroft pointed out.

“Mycroft, I’m not going to lose my job over leaving early on my birthday,” Molly laughed.

Mycroft pulled out his phone and sent out a text. “Now you’re free,” he grinned. “Dinner?”

“Only if we can go to Angelo’s,” Molly said in a mock-stern voice.

Mycroft sighed over-dramatically. “Fine. But only because it’s your birthday!”

“Of course,” Molly grinned. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Mycroft held out his arm for Molly to take. She laughed and snagged his hand, swinging it between them as they walked out of the morgue. Sherlock came running up, yelling, “Molly! Wait! Before you leave, I need you for something!”

Mycroft held up a hand to stop Sherlock. “Sorry, brother dear, but Molly is mine for the est of the evening.”

Molly giggled and led Mycroft onward, while Sherlock stared at the two of them in shock. “...What?” he asked. He turned at them and spat, “WHAT?!”

Mycroft had tears in his eyes from holding back his laughter until they were safely hidden in the elevator. “Best way to 'come out' as a couple to Sherlock," he snickered.

“Agreed.”


	28. Doing Something Ridiculous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter features Samantha and Annabeth, as seen in the oneshot "Let It Go, Mycroft!" of The Mollcroft Files

Three kids were screaming at the top of their lungs, and that just about adequately described Mycroft’s life at the moment. Sherlock and Irene were out of town on a case, meaning that in addition to dealing with Samantha and Anna, Molly and Mycroft had Hamish to watch as well, and Molly had work today. Samantha was 10, and spent most of her time sulking in her room, but Anna, now 8, and evidently gotten her out of her dungeon to play Monopoly with Hamish, and now all 3 of them were arguing over something or other in the game, while Mycroft was sending a strongly-opinionated e-mail to the PM about how much of an idiot he was acting like. His temples were throbbing. As Hamish was winding up to punch someone, Mycroft threw up his hands and yelled, “I GIVE UP!”

All three of them turned to him in surprise. “...Give up at what, Dad?” Samantha asked quietly.

“At keeping the three of you alive! I’m leaving the three of you here and going to work, because at least there all the monkeys behave!” He got up, grabbed his coat, and walked out the door, locking it behind him, and walking to the curb. He turned on his phone and called Molly. “Hey, Moll? I’m gonna leave the kids alone for 15 minutes while I go out and grab lunch for them, ignore any calls about me abandoning them, all right?”

A thick silence hung over the line, and Molly hung up without saying anything. Mycroft looked at his phone, and hung up, chuckling to himself. It was completely ridiculous, but if this worked, then Mycroft wouldn’t have to deal with another budding migraine like the one he had right now.

He walked the entire way to the store, picked up some meat and cheeses for sandwiches, and walked home, hoping the monsters wouldn’t raid the fridge just yet. When he walked in, he way attacked verbally with ‘sorry’s and ‘we won’t dream of doing that again’s and one odd ‘please don’t feed me to the wolves, Uncle Mycroft’, which he found very amusing. He held up his hands and the three of them went silent. “I’ll stay if you three behave. Now. I have some ingredients for sandwiches, who’s ready for lunch?”

Three hands went up, and Mycroft went to the kitchen to begin the long process of dealing with everyone’s preferences and making something that everyone liked. The front door banged open before he could get out the bread, and a very loud, “MYCROFT HOLMES, OUR ROOM, NOW!” carried through the house.

The kids snickered as Mycroft went to check on his very angry wife and see if there was any way he wouldn’t die for potentially endangering the monsters’ lives. After all, at least now they were behaving.


	29. Doing Something Sweet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one might get me some looks, but I swear I'm not a sociopath. Or a psychopath. I just have a strange sense of humor.

“Round and round the garden like a teddy bear, one step, two step, tickle you under  _ there!” _ Mycroft exclaimed, tickling Charlotte under her chin.

Charlotte shrieked with laughter and batted Mycroft’s hands away. “No!” she exclaimed through giggles. “No, Daddy!”

“No? Why not?” he asked, grinning. “Why can’t I tickle you, Char?”

“‘Cause I say so, Daddy! No means no!”

Mycroft burst out laughing. “Pick that up from your mum, Char?”

Charlotte nodded. “She said it when her friends were over and I was listening ‘cause the mean one said I couldn’t!”

“Let’s go say your new favorite phrase to Mum, yeah?”

“Yeah!” Charlotte exclaimed.

“You pick up weird things when the women from the charity come over,” Mycroft chuckled. “I take it you like their campaign, though. They’ll be happy to hear that.”

Molly came into the hall from the kitchen and asked, “What about our campaign?”

Mycroft looked down at Charlotte. “Go on, Char, say it.”

“Mummy! No means no!”

Molly turned pitch white and Mycroft started cracking up again, putting Charlotte down so he didn’t drop her. Charlotte looked between the two, trying to figure out what could get two such drastic different reactions. Molly leaned down to her and put a hand on her shoulder. “Charlotte, I’m glad you’re listening to people but...that’s one thing you don’t just go saying willy-nilly.”

Charlotte’s eyes widened. “Is it bad?”

“No, no sweetie, it’s trying to  _ stop _ bad people. But if you say that to the wrong person they might think you’ve met a bad person and they tried to hurt you.”

Charlotte’s gears turned slowly in her head before the lightbulb went off and she understood. “Oh, okay, Mummy. Can I still say it to Daddy when he tries to tickle me, though?”

Molly shot an accusing look at Mycroft, and he held his hands up in surrender. “I just found out about it this morning, love.”

“Yes, you can say it  _ in private _ , all right? It can be a joke, just between the three of us.”

“You don’t find it funny,” she pointed out.

“I don’t find Daddy funny, that’s different,” Molly assured. “And Mycroft, stop tickling the baby if she doesn’t want to be tickled.”

Mycroft crossed his heart. “Fine, I’ll give it a rest for a week or two. Satisfied?”

Charlotte nodded and held up her hands. “Up?” she requested.

“Of course, sweetheart,” Mycroft laughed, picking her up. “Now what do you want to do, if you don’t want to be tickled?”

“I wanna read,” Charlotte decided.

“You want to read? Okay, let’s read. Will Mummy join us?” he asked.

Molly rolled her eyes. “Only if it’s not one of the pamphlets, all right?”

Mycroft chuckled. “I was thinking  _ Winnie the Pooh _ , honestly.”

Charlotte cheered.


	30. Doing Something Hot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Easter if you celebrate, guys! This was really fun to make, thank you all for your kind words and for joining this ride with me!

It was 90 degrees outside according to the Americans, and they claimed that this was one of the nicer days they’d had for a while. A heat wave had struck Hawaii exactly at the time that Mycroft had been called there for a conference. He had gotten to bring Molly this time, however, and they were sitting on the edge of the beach near the waves, just watching the surfers go by looking for a good wave. Mycroft glanced over. “I think we should get another drink, you?”

“Yeah,” Molly said reluctantly. “That or you’d actually have to go in the water, and apparently you’d never do that in a million years.”

“I would too,” Mycroft defended. “I just don’t want to get up at the moment.”

“You will to get a drink,” Molly argued.

“Basic survival, nothing more,” Mycroft chuckled. “When I come back we can get soaked, sound good?”

Molly nodded and watched the waves come in, chilling her legs whenever they brushed against her. Mycroft quickly got them each a bottle of water and he put the bottles down on their towel, both of them running to the surf to cool off. “This feels nice,” Molly hummed.

“A little cold compared to the rest of the island, but not in a bad way,” Mycroft allowed.

Molly splashed him with water and grinned. “You’re gonna be soaked by the time I’m through with you.”

“I could say the same,” Mycroft said, splashing her right back.

Thus, the two of them went at it trying to soak each other like children during their one respite from the heat during the day, and both of them agreed, that given the choice, they’d rather have no one else be the opposing side.

_ ~End~ _


End file.
